


Memories

by Returnofmorningstar



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Forced coming out, Jack is a Nosy Shit, M/M, No Angst, Rated For Suggestive Flirting, Rhys and Vaughn are the Bestest of Bros, Takes Place at the Beginning of Ep. 3, trans!Rhys, trans!Vaughn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 13:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11314407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Returnofmorningstar/pseuds/Returnofmorningstar
Summary: Jack's bored and snooping through Rhys's memories when he stumbles across something he shouldn't have.





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> This is a response to something that I saw on tumblr that felt a little problematic to me. I decided to do something for the same prompt. 
> 
> Completely unbeta'd and written in an hour and a half, so let me know if there are any mistakes.

In all seriousness, Jack had never been more bored in all of his life. He was stuck in the head of some freakish fanboy  _ nerd,  _ who was the only one who could interact with him.

Which, honestly, was probably for the best. The company that Rhysie kept was the epitome of the Anti-Jack club: two bandit sisters and  _ freaking Athena.  _ Even Zer0 had come around, and all his shouted curses had accomplished was giving Rhys a headache. Being dead was awful.

The only benefit of his digital state was his ability to snoop around in the kiddo’s weird brain. Cybernetic implants were wild and required a lot of technology being shoved into the brain, so it was pretty easy for Jack to go through his memories.

He found the embarrassing ones first, like the first day of Rhys’s first job where he spilled coffee on his boss’s skirt and drooled on his keyboard when he accidentally fell asleep at his desk. Pretty basic cringe stuff, but it was entertaining enough to ease Jack’s boredom.

Rhys made it very clear that he didn’t approve of the disembodied cackling in his brain, but it wasn’t like he could do anything with Athena and Fiona sitting across from him. So he put on a brave face and suffered in silence up until Jack tried to tap into a series of memories stored in the back of Rhys’s brain next to his high school memories, which Jack was certain was an absolute delight. 

But before Jack could even touch one of the memories he was locked out by what looked like antivirus software.

His blue form flickered in sight and he scowled at Rhys, who had his palm display open. With Athena and Fiona engrossed in their plan for obtaining the Gortys piece, Rhys returned Jack’s unhappy glare and mouthed a stern “no” in his direction.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, kiddo. What’s in there that’s so bad you need to hide it? I already saw you eat shit trying to skateboard for your girlfriend—a masterpiece, by the way—and the disaster that was your first college party. Really, it can’t get worse than puking on some stranger’s dog,” he said with a snicker.

Regardless, Rhys’s pouting scowl didn’t relax and Jack couldn’t get around the antivirus, so he groaned and dropped it.

 

For a little while, anyway.

Tinkering around in the guts of some dumb little robot took a surprising amount of brain power and after an hour or so, Jack took a peek inside the now unguarded memory folder.

The stored memories were a lot stronger than he had anticipated; merely touching one dragged Jack into a hospital that looked eerily similar to the one on Helios that had installed his mask clamps.

_ “Heyyy, bro.” Jack’s—Rhys’s _ — _ head turns at the soft and fuzzy sound of his weirdly muscular friend’s voice. “How are you feeling?” _

_ Rhys groans pathetically. “I think the painkillers are already wearing off. I feel like I got hit by a space shuttle.” _

What was the point of blocking off the aftermath of his cybernetic surgeries? That wasn’t anything particularly humiliating, since he seemed proud enough of them that he cut off his stupid sleeve to show off Hyperion’s handiwork.

_ “An  _ awesome  _ space shuttle,” Vaughn chirps. “Seriously, I know mine is in a few months but I’m still so jealous.” _

_ Rhys laughs, then winces. “Soon, bro. Can’t have both of us out of commission at the same time. Our apartment would fall apart.” _

_ “Dude, it’s already falling apart.”  _

_ Rhys snorts. “Fair enough.”  _

_ There’s a pause and then he says, “I know I’m covered in bandages, but how do they look?” _

_ Vaughn beams at him. “I talked to the surgeon when she finished and she said everything went awesome. It’s kinda hard to tell how they’ll look after a few months but she’s confident that you’ll look great. She said soon I’ll be able to carry you home once she clears you for discharge and gets what we need to take with us.”  _

_ He studies Rhys and picks up a mirror from nearby. “Wanna see?” _

_ Rhys nods and Vaughns angles a mirror over him. His face looks even younger than it does now and Rhys grimaces at his own reflection until Vaughn shifts the angle enough to show the white bandages that covered his chest.  _

Jack watched Rhys’s tired eyes light up with happiness as he looked at his chest, no longer listening to the conversation between the friends, when it suddenly clicked. 

Oh.  _ Oh. _

He removed himself from the memory and found Rhys hunched over Dumpy on the table with his shoulders quivering. When the flashback ended, Rhys jerked upright and answered his companions’ concerned looks with, “I need to go to the roof,” and got up to do just that.

Rhys sat down on the roof of the caravan with his knees to his chest. Jack floated across from him, uncharacteristically quiet.

“Well? Got any snarky comments?” Rhys snapped bitterly, sniffling.

“No,” Jack answered quietly, which threw Rhys through a loop.

“What, really?” he asked hesitantly. “Nothing at all? No insults? No jokes?”

“Nope,” Jack repeated. He swallowed and looked down at him. “I…I’m sorry, Rhys. I didn’t know that’s what it was.” 

Rhys squirmed and looked down at the roof as he hugged his legs. He rubbed his eyes against his knees and mumbled, “It’s okay, kinda. Though I’m surprised you’re taking it so well. That’s not really what I expected from Handsome Jack.”

Jack scoffed. “Give me a little credit, pumpkin. As long as you aren’t some asshole bandit, then I really don’t care what’s under your clothes.” His gaze raked up and down Rhys. “Well, I might care a  _ little  _ bit.”

Rhys snorted a soft laugh. “Okay, Jack.” 

They sat in silence for a couple of moments before Jack asked, “Sooo, you gonna share the results?”

His face flushed pink and he shifted his legs again. “Absolutely not.”

“Aw, why not?” Jack pestered. 

“It’s snowing, Jack!” Rhys pointed out with a poorly stifled grin. “I’m not taking my shirt off for you right now.”

Jack cocked an eyebrow at the wording and smirked when Rhys spared him a coy glance. He reclined back in the air. “How about whenever we get somewhere private with no snow, you take it  _ all  _ off for me?” he requested with a leer. 

Rhys buried a wide smile in his kneecaps. “Okay, Jack.”  

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very happy with the way this turned out. :)
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://gaymer-trash.tumblr.com)!


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